


trace the fine lines

by Joana789



Series: tumblr fics [1]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, they're dorks and that's it my dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joana789/pseuds/Joana789
Summary: See, Lucas doesn’t know much about Beautiful Boy. He knows his name is Eliott, and guesses he is an art student because he sometimes comes into the coffee shop with art supplies peeking out of his bag or with his fingertips stained with ink. He wears weird patterned shirts or the immortal brown-orange jacket when the weather gets colder. He has a nice voice that makes Lucas think of sunlight, warm and golden.And he’s the most goddamn gorgeous person Lucas has ever seen. So there’s that.





	trace the fine lines

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://oheliotts.tumblr.com)  
> 

Lucas really likes his job at the coffee shop, you see, as out of character as it is for him. There are three reasons for that.

Reason number one: it pays his bills. He doesn’t earn particularly much, but it’s enough to cover his rent and basic living expenses, and if he tries really hard, he can even afford to go out every once in a while to keep the illusion of his social life in place.

Reason number two: he gets to work with some really cool people, which is unexpected but not unwelcomed. Manon is the one who got him this job, so he basically owes her his life, and she bakes the best fucking muffins Lucas has tried in his entire existence. Yann is like his long-lost brother at this point, and Lucas feels as if they’ve known each other for years instead of four months since he stared there. Imane can be harsh sometimes, or stubborn, but Lucas appreciates that, actually, how she doesn’t let others fuck with her. He also appreciates how, when Lucas’s ex-boyfriend kept pestering him, she was ready to break the dude’s arms if Lucas only said a word. That was nice.

Reason number three: Beautiful Boy.

See, Lucas doesn’t know much about Beautiful Boy. He knows his name is Eliott, and guesses he is an art student because he sometimes comes into the coffee shop with art supplies peeking out of his bag or with his fingertips stained with ink. He wears weird patterned shirts or the immortal brown-orange jacket when the weather gets colder. He has a nice voice that makes Lucas think of sunlight, warm and golden.

And he’s the most goddamn gorgeous person Lucas has ever seen. So there’s that.

Lucas gets to see Eliott every Tuesday and Friday morning. Eliott is always nice and smiley, even at 7 AM, and very kindly ignores it whenever Lucas is very obviously trying not to yawn as he takes his order. Eliott always drinks the same thing, and it’s tea, of all the options he could choose, but Lucas finds it endearing, even if Yann keeps making fun of him for it, like right now.

”Lover boy not here yet?” Yann asks as he comes out of the staff room, only to find Lucas slumped at the cash register, trying not to fall asleep. It’s 7:30. Lucas likes this job, yes; the fact that he has to wake up at 6 for the morning shifts is not why he likes it.

”He’s not a ” _lover boy_ ”,” Lucas mutters. They’ve had this conversation before. ”Stop calling him that.”

Yann shrugs, raising his eyebrows. ”Yeah, he’s not but he could be,” he says and _winks_ , and Lucas thinks, _it’s too early for this_. ”You know I’m right.”

”You’re not right,” Lucas tells him. It doesn’t sound convincing.

”I’m right,” Yann says. He sounds like he’s having the time of his life. ”You realise I still have that picture of you blushing while taking his order, right? It’s hard proof.”

Lucas is, suddenly, very grateful that the morning rush hasn’t started yet and they’re still alone at the coffee shop. ”I asked you to delete that,” he says, feeling the traitorous blush creeping its way onto his face.

”And I’ve decided to ignore that request,” Yann says, the cheeky bastard, but then he has to notice something about Lucas’s expression because his grin softens. ”Lucas, he keeps coming back here twice a week, and he doesn’t even drink coffee. It’s a _coffee shop_. Have you never thought about that?”

He has. ”Maybe he really likes tea.”

”Yeah, maybe,” Yann says, and then the bell at the door tinkles, so he turns to greet the first customer, ”Or maybe it’s not the tea he likes.”

Lucas only ducks his head and doesn’t say anything in reply.

He tries not to think about it, as his shift progresses. He busies himself with making the orders and not messing anything up as Yann handles the cash register, and then when that’s done, he busies himself with cleaning and then busies himself with whatever else he can after that. He also tries, and fails, not to flit his gaze to the clock every five minutes. It’s Friday today. It’s really stupid, how his heartbeat stutters every time someone comes through the door.

Lucas knows it probably doesn’t mean anything — how nice Eliott is, or how he seems to light up whenever he spots Lucas, like Lucas has anywhere else to be. Eliott is nice to everyone, from what he’s noticed. And Lucas is not blind, okay, it’s not particularly difficult to realise that Eliott might flirt with him a little bit from time to time, but maybe he’s just…naturally flirty, or something. Or maybe he’s doing it unconsciously. Lucas can’t really see any other explanation, really, because people as beautiful as Eliott don’t really get interested in people like Lucas.

(Imane almost maimed him with a spoon, once, when he’d said that out loud, but that’s how it is. There’s nothing self-deprecating about it, really; it’s just the truth.)

He’s so deep into his thoughts that he doesn’t catch Yann saying his name at first, but then he snaps his head up and —

Eliott is here at the counter. Lucas remembers, like he does every time he sees him, why he’d kept calling him Beautiful Boy in his head for almost three weeks before he finally caught his real name.

”I need to make a call, dude, I just remembered,” Yann says, untying his apron and turning to Lucas, and he doesn’t ever try to hide the sly grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth. ”Can you take care of the cash register for a second?”

”Um,” Lucas says, thinking, _fuck you_ but also thinking, _thank you so much_. ”Yeah, I— Yeah, okay.”

”Great,” Yann says, beaming like a child that got away with something, and then slides past him, and Lucas is left on his own.

Eliott fidgets a little by the cash register. Lucas swallows down how idiotically flustered he feels and comes up to him.

”Hi, Eliott,” he says, hoping it comes off sounding normally. ”Your usual?”

Eliott’s usual is rosehip and cranberry tea, which Lucas has teased him about, on some occasions. Eliott smiles at him, but there’s something off about it today, and Lucas wonders briefly if it’s because Eliott is afraid that he’ll make fun of him again, maybe.

”Yeah, sounds good,” Eliott tells him and then quickly turns his eyes away, looks down before flitting his gaze up again. Lucas blinks. ”Sounds great.”

”Okay,” he smiles. “Right up.”

He rings it in, and Eliott pays, and Lucas feels— a little strange. Without any specific reason to, really, except this is usually the part when Eliott’s vague flirting starts. Eliott likes to lean over the counter a little and ask about how Lucas’s shift has been going, or — if Lucas is feeling brave and manages to ask Eliott about his day first — talks about something he’s seen on the street and found funny, or a book he’s been reading or a song he’s been listening to. That’s how it usually goes, and it’s enough for Lucas to spend the rest of the day smiling quietly to himself when nobody else can see him.

Except that now, when he goes to make Eliott’s tea — since Yann still hasn’t, shockingly, finished his _call_ — Eliott is completely silent. He stands at the cash register and kind of just keeps biting at his lower lip — which, _god_ — and shuffles a little awkwardly on his feet, and even when he sends Lucas a smile, it seems strained around the edges. Lucas finishes making the tea with a confused frown forming on his face, and it only deepens when he hands Eliott the cup and Eliott takes it, says, ”Thank you,” and then just keeps standing there.

Lucas tries to discreetly size him up, starting to feel worry sprout up next to his initial confusion. ”You’re welcome,” he says and it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement. He catches Eliott’s gaze, bright and beautiful. ”Is everything all right?”

”Yes, it’s— yes,” Eliott says, but the words are quick and laced with something Lucas can’t pinpoint. Eliott licks his lips again. Lucas tries very hard not to follow the movement too closely. ”I’m— listen, I— I need help.”

Lucas’s frown deepens. ”Okay,” he says, trying to swallow the worry down, ”well, how can I help you?”

It comes out sounding stupid but he can’t do much about it, really. Not when Eliott’s acting weird like that. They might not know each other very well, but he’s been talking to Eliott at least twice a week for the past two months and he doesn’t think he’s seen him acting like this before. Eliott usually seems like an extremely laid-back guy, with his gorgeous face and tall frame and shoulders hunched just a little bit. He laughs like he doesn’t have anything to worry about, ever. Lucas is not sure how to approach this change in his behaviour.

”This is going to sound really stupid,” Eliott says and then fidgets with the rings on his fingers, making a pause like he’s waiting for Lucas to stop him from talking. Lucas doesn’t, only waits until Eliott looks up at him again, then watches as Eliott takes a breath. ”Listen, I’m not sure if you know, but I’m an art student.” Lucas nods. He figured that out right, then. ”And I actually have an art project to make, and it’s about—it’s, well—” Eliott cuts himself off. Lucas raises his eyebrows, hoping it comes off as encouraging. ”It’s— We’ve been talking about what attraction and beauty mean in the context of contemporary art, and my teacher asked us to draw a portrait based on that theme, and I know it probably sounds extremely idiotic but I— was wondering if maybe you’d agree if I drew you. Possibly. If that’s okay.”

It takes Lucas a moment to register what Eliott has said.

Then, he swears his heart fucking stops for a moment, probably because all the blood in his system rushes to his face as he blushes.

”You—” Lucas is the one stuttering now. ”You want to draw me?”

Eliott runs a hand through his hair in a gesture that Lucas finally pinpoints as nervousness. Eliott’s freaking _nervous_. _Oh, Jesus. ”_ I mean…if that’s okay?”

Lucas barely hears it. ”For your project about beauty?”

He watches, incredulously, as Eliott ducks his head and the tips of his ears get bright red. ”Yes,” Eliott tells him, small, and then he takes a breath and kind of squares his shoulders like he’s getting ready for something and says, in that same small, warm, sunlight voice, ”I— I just think you’re really beautiful.”

And Lucas thinks, _oh_.

For a moment, he just stands and looks at Eliott. At Beautiful Boy, with his big eyes and messy hair and his forever-there jacket, at how he shuffles on his feet nervously and how he’s fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt now. Something in his Lucas’s chest tips over and floods him with warmth, a tingly feeling, spreading slowly.

He says, ”Okay.”

Eliott’s head snaps up at that. ”Okay?”

”Yeah,” Lucas says, smiling at how Eliott’s voice sounds, then smiling wider as Eliott’s face lights up with a wide grin. ”Sounds good.”

”Great,” Eliott says. Lucas nods in agreement. It’s really great. Really great. Eliott thinks he’s beautiful. They keep smiling at each other like lunatics, grinning like kids, at 8 AM on a Friday. Lucas loves this job.

After a moment, Eliott shrugs a little, and it’s sheepish and endearing all at once and Lucas thinks, _god. Jesus_. ”Can I get your number?” Eliott asks, sounding shy, but also like he’s happy and Lucas is nodding before he even knows it.

He writes his number down on Eliott’s cup of tea, and then Eliott takes it and, smiling at Lucas with the brightest grin he’s seen from him yet, says, ”Thank you.”

And then he turns around and goes, and Lucas keeps grinning until Yann finally materialises by his side and starts laughing at how red Lucas’s face apparently is.

(He gets a text later.

 _what would you say_ , it says, _if we started our portrait drawing session with a nice dinner first?)_

**Author's Note:**

> [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/joana789)


End file.
